[Allison PeryeaAbove the Law ]

“The class didn’t introduce me to my inner pinup or anything. But it did remind me that, after the conference calls and client memos are completed, we don’t just have to be in lawyer mode all the time. We can be athletic, or adventurous, or goofy. Or maybe even sexy—and not just on Halloween.”

Allison Peryea, at the pole.

Allison Peryea, at the pole.

As a law partner in my mid-30s who’s been in the same relationship since Adam and Eve were an item, “be sexy” isn’t really on my to-do list any more. I focus on other lofty goals, such as “be productive,” “eat vegetables,” and “remain solvent.” Indeed, lately the gym shoes I wear on my walk to work have become the shoes I wear all day at the office. And at home I am back to my fall-winter “uniform”: sweats, slippers and a blue North Face fleece I stole from my boyfriend that is usually sporting evidence of my last several meals.

It was time to bring sexy back, and not just on Halloween. So my friend Ali and I signed up for a pole-dancing class, using a half-off coupon they handed out at the Gay Pride Festival this summer. (You can be both sexy and thrifty, kids). These classes have become increasingly popular as a new and different way to work out: boot camp for booty shakers.
At happy hour the day before the class, we discussed the classic conundrum: What does one wear to pole dance? We had concerns about friction and the unintentionally revealing aspects of running shorts.

The day of the class, we had difficulty finding the pole-dancing studio. We ultimately located it in the basement of one of those old, two-story Capitol Hill commercial buildings that developers salivate over in their lust to turn everything into unaffordable condos. The studio itself was best described as “super cute.” There was a bank of Tiffany blue lockers, and posters with affirmational sayings on them. The takeaway was that pole dancing was for everyone. I was about to test that theory.

There were six members in the class: Ali, me, and four girls who all looked younger and decidedly more limber. Our instructor was a girl named Ace who was sporting a psychedelic pair of leggings covered in circuit switchboards.

We did a little warm-up and she started introducing us to some floor moves. One of them included the “Bombshell,” where you start out sitting on the floor and then roll up to standing without making that “I’m no spring chicken anymore” noise. I started feeling…unwieldy. Turns out that pole dancing is one of those activities that takes a lot of work to look easy, like rock climbing or eating spaghetti.

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